Observation Journal — Blue bees and alt-DC rom-coms

On this page of the observation journal, I was again thinking through a pattern I’d noticed across a few books. It also features a blue bee sighting.

Double page spread from observation journal, handwritten. On the left, five things seen, heard, and done, and a picture. On the right, a chart of ideas.

General journal notes: I occasionally use the journal to look a little more closely at something I enjoy. Some previous journal posts include The appeal of staginess, Breaking down patterns, and Things that tell you what they’re doing. I’ve since expanded it to look at, for example, the charm of tiny contained worlds in art — I’ll post that journal page in due course, but it led to the Ominous Groves calendar page.

In this case, I had already thought of a few key elements of the idea I wanted to analyse, so I went directly to thinking more closely about each of those. It’s a different approach to the central mind map and detailed tables I used previously, and was more useful for collating things I already wanted to say. You’ll see the note in the reflection area at the bottom says I’m still looking for a structure for these notes.

The purpose of these sorts of notes is to try to look under the hood of something I like (pictures or stories), and see what makes it work. And to find mechanisms and tools I can use to build or fix my own work.

But on to the question, which was — what is the appeal of romantic comedies set in an alternate version of Washington DC?

Handwritten observation journal page charting ideas.

Context: It was April 2020 and I was in Brisbane, Australia. I was thinking of Casey McQuiston’s Red, White and Royal Blue, and Meg Cabot’s All American Girl, and the movie Dave (which I think I meant to write there instead of West Wing), and other fantasies of Washington DC. I was looking at reasons they appealed to me, and how they managed to feel “giddy, hopeful, charming”. And also, seen from outside the USA, these are a very strange genre. Finally, this wasn’t a critique of the genre (and clearly there is a lot more to be said!)— I was specifically looking for the elements which seemed to make it work.

Main points: There were six main elements that these stories seemed to share.

  • Power combined with equality
    • There is a fantasy of power
    • But also the stated aim of equality (even if there is also hypocrisy)
    • The characters in a relationship often hold some power, which makes them potentially equal, even if that power is knowledge or secrets
    • The story can play with ideas of power
  • A utopia, but with shadows
    • There tends to be a shining setting and a buoyant mood
    • There is a fantasy of the right thing having the potential to happen
    • But this state of affairs requires constant maintenance (which creates conflict without necessarily requiring an antagonist)
  • Privilege paired with obligation
    • This exists in tension with the first point (power + equality)
    • It permits fantasies of nobility and noblesse oblige in an American context
    • All the thrill of access and secrets and a sort of White House Gothic
    • The privilege is potentially fragile (not just birth, one hopes)
  • Unlikely proximity
    • Useful for the genre (meet-cutes, etc)
    • Characters are thrown together
    • There are many different interests in one place
    • Unlikely proximity is a function of the place as a constant, and a heightened mood, etc
    • It allows some small-town qualities without necessarily being weary of it
    • Rulers, the rich and famous pass through
    • Rarefied air and a small stage gives a city-state effect (and relates to privilege+obligation)
  • Beauty and brains
    • Attraction and attractiveness, yes, because of the genre
    • But brains & competence & high achievers because of the setting
    • And this means that wit and banter can become effectively action scenes
    • [I’m also intrigued, lately, by books which create a milieu where the physical or intellectual attractiveness of the characters is explained by the setting rather than by coincidence/the fact that they are main characters]
  • Learning curve and expertise
    • People are not (necessarily) born to this. There is always a learning/coming of age.
    • “Movement — country/America as a verb, not a noun” — I don’t remember what this means!
    • The learning curve contributes to the speed of the story and its arc
    • 4 years at a time, not generations [note: obviously there are dynasties, etc — this was in the context of the books]

It’s quite interesting to see which of these elements are shared with (for example) Regency romance, which these books occasionally remind me of (I did get into “unlikely proximities” on a later page). These alternative-DCs are the contemporary settings which most often feel to me like a Regency (but I have strange ideas about those). From a romance/rom-com perspective, it would be interesting to go back and look at the differences between this and Regency, and to see which other subgenres share the similarities. And it would of course be worth looking at the dangers, or what isn’t shown, and where books shift out of this genre when the fantasy of Washington starts to crumble, and how the genre itself changes.

Some of this reading (and these thoughts) fed into my post on the romance of the navigable world, for Meanjin.

Go. Home.